Retreat
by servantofclio
Summary: April hadn't meant to hurt Donnie. Not really. She'd just really needed him to stop talking. (TMNT 2012; spoilers for the season 2 finale, The Invasion)


Spoilers for the season 2 finale ahead! This is set right after; I was trying to guess what might be going through April's head to explain her actions during the episode.

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><p>It's dark by the time they really get clear of New York City. There's a lot of traffic. April supposes that shouldn't really be a surprise.<p>

Dad's old van works fine, though, and Casey doesn't seem to have a problem driving. He's quiet now, but he was even humming to himself for a while. From her place in the passenger seat, April peers around into the back of the van.

It's quiet and dark back there. She can make out Leo's form first, sprawled on the floor. They had gathered up the cushions and blankets stashed in the back of the van to tuck around him, trying to keep him comfortable and protect his battered body from more jostling. He hasn't woken up, and it's been hours now. April bites her lip as worry worms its way into her head. They don't even know what happened to him, really, but—he'll be okay, right? They won't have any supplies out in the country except whatever Donnie has in his kit, but— well. He'll be all right. They'll— they'll figure out a way to help him.

Raph and Mikey must have fallen asleep, leaning against each other, two lumps against one side of the van. Donnie's sitting by himself on the other, back against the wall and knees drawn up. April can't tell if he's awake or not. He's sitting in reach of Leo, and she can see the pale color of the bandage on his injured arm, laid carefully across his knees. The sight gives her a stab of guilt and regret. He'll be okay, too. She hadn't meant to hurt him when she tied off his bandage, not really. It needed to be tight, anyway, right? It had only been a moment, and she'd really needed him to _stop talking_.

Somewhere deep down, her heart prickles with a tiny bit of pride. After all this time, he was finally going to come clean. It was obvious how he felt, really. It always had been. April isn't dumb, even without her mental powers. When a guy can't stop looking at you and stammers whenever he talks to you and accidentally calls you "princess," it's pretty obvious how he feels.

Also when he almost gets himself killed trying to find your imprisoned dad and then works forever to accomplish the impossible and bring him back to you.

April tightens her mouth so her lips don't wobble and goes back to staring out the windshield at the dark highway ahead. She doesn't want to think about her dad, or any of the other New Yorkers turned into some new and exciting kind of mutant, or Casey's missing family. She steals a sideways look at Casey. He's stopped smirking, and she catches the tiniest bit of his thoughts, dark and restless, before she pulls back. She wants to be in her own head right now, even though it aches. Her own feelings are enough to deal with, she doesn't want to take on Casey's or anyone else's, and definitely not Donnie's—

Yeah. It was—brave of him, in a way, she knows it was hard for him to confess what he felt out loud, but she just—couldn't hear it. Not now, in the middle of a crisis and not— no. She doesn't want to hear it at all.

She glances back over her shoulder. Donnie hasn't moved.

If he'd said what he felt, she'd have to do something about that, wouldn't she? She'd have to say what _she_ felt, she'd have to say yes or no, or... or _something_, at least. She'd have to say _I care about you, too_, or _Let's just be friends_ or—

She does care, obviously she does, she cares about all of them, but—

April almost squirms in her seat. But Donnie's different, she knows it, with a hot little flush of shame. There's a reason he's always the one she calls first, and it's not just because he'll pick up the fastest, and there's a reason she hasn't kissed any of the others. Not, like, real kisses, just cheek-kisses, but— she still doesn't dish those out to everyone all the time.

In the dim light, she catches a glimpse of movement. Donnie reaches out and puts his hand against Leo's neck, holds it there for a long moment. Must be checking his pulse.

So... he's awake. He looks so alone back there, with all his brothers asleep or unconscious and himself huddled against the wall. April could go back there. Probably she _should_ go back there, undo her seatbelt and squeeze between the seats so she could sit next to him. Donnie's always been there for her. He came to her rescue when she hadn't been talking to him for a month, and he held her when Casey got swallowed, and— he's just always there with a comforting word or hug when she wants one. She doesn't need to try to know he has to be feeling really crappy right now, with Leo hurt and Master Splinter gone and—

But she won't go back there. She can't. If she does he might try to say it again, and then what is she going to do?

Because she can't— she can't deal with this. She might be a mutant, too, but she looks normal. She looks human. If they could just deal with the Kraang, if there weren't an alien invasion on, she could have a normal life. Go to school, date a regular, human guy, and— it's not like she's really _in love_ with Donnie, or anything—

He's really easy to love, though.

Resolutely, April turns back to facing front, blinking back the hot prickle at the edges of her eyelids. She's not being fair or even nice, and she knows it. She does love Donnie—at least a little—and not quite the way she loves his brothers— but she cares for Casey too, and she wants a normal life, and she doesn't want to have to _choose_ right now. Isn't it bad enough the Kraang are after her?

Although maybe they don't even need her any more. They're sure invading the planet just fine without her.

Well. April supposes she helped at the beginning, but she didn't know Irma wasn't Irma! How did they even do that?

The turtles— Donnie— keep getting into danger because of her, and that's not fair, either.

April bites her lip again and steals another glance at Casey. Casey likes her. That's totally obvious, too. And he's fun to be around, and a good guy. And yeah, he pinched her ass that one time, but he hasn't done it again since she yelled at him. It would be so easy to be with Casey. They could go to school dances together and make fun of the popular kids, and she could go to his hockey games and cheer. It would be totally normal.

She crosses her arms over her chest, fighting back the sting of grief for what they've left behind. _Normal_ is a stupid dream when New York City is full of Kraang. No school, no dances, no hockey games, no— no _nothing_. They've just got to figure out how to get rid of the Kraang. Somehow.

And until then, she doesn't want to think about her feelings, or anyone else's, either. She just wants her dad back and the Kraang fucking _gone_.

Her dad doesn't like it when she swears. Even in the privacy of her head it feels like a rebellion. April hugs herself a little tighter.

Donnie will be okay. And if she pays attention to Casey, Donnie will back off, and then she won't have to deal with what he wants to say. April frowns into the darkness, hating herself a little for that, and for leaving him all alone back there, but— what matters now is recovering and figuring out what to do next. Not anyone's feelings.

So they'll retreat. Regroup. Figure out how to take the city back. Yeah.

In the meantime, they drive into the dark.


End file.
